


Ave Maria

by JessaLRynn



Series: Gloria In Excelsis [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Holidays, Humor, Inspired by Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:51:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2843627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessaLRynn/pseuds/JessaLRynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel's opinion of a popular Christmas carol - and what he does about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ave Maria

Gabriel glowered. "Mary Did You Know?" he demanded. "What the hell does that mean?"

His audience stammered, stuttered, possibly wet himself. Gabriel kept his trademark smirk to a minimum. It didn't suit his current "disguise".

It was the freaking Apocalypse, he had decided to throw his chips in with the Winchesters, he was absolutely screwed. Thus, Gabriel's so-called disguise was... undisguised. He was the Archangel of Judgement, six immense crimson and gold wings flared wide, golden eyes, set in a flaming countenance, sparking with not-entirely-feigned rage. The small stature of his vessel was irrelevant - Gabriel filled the entire room he occupied, and then some, towering, blazing, blindingly bright.

"Winchesters aside, most people find it difficult to ignore me."

"But, you, but. But?"

"There's a Book; it's very popular with the company you keep," Gabriel explained, because there was nothing so delightful to him as watching a deserving asshat suffer - except going out of his way to make it worse. "Did you read it? I mean, you talk about bits of it in your story, so I thought you might've, but then you go around asking dumb questions to a lady who really put up with enough without you."

The guy's eyes flitted around the room, huge and desperate, as if to find a TV camera or possibly an exit. It wouldn't help. If he went out the door, he'd just come through it again. Gabriel loved rules, especially the sounds people made when you squashed them flat in their faces. Natural law was the best sort of rule because it wasn't something any idiot could break; even the most gifted amateur prankster had to bow before physics.

"I liked the tune, if I'm honest," the Archangel allowed, because he ought to be fair... ish. "It's dreamy and kinda catchy, and it must be like catnip to anything with a twang 'cuz, great Dad above, they just love to draw it out forever, don't they? But you aren't responsible for that part."

The guy actually physically winced and squished down in his chair like he was trying to shrink. Gabriel grinned like a cheshire shark and, with an almighty flap of great wings, pounced on the chair arms, boxing his victim in.

"You, my friend, had to write a tacky, pompous, and frankly ignorant piece of drivel and call it poetry. Mary, did you know? Hells, yeah, she knew. You're one of those tedious, supercilious jackasses that thinks everything in that Book fell out of Dad's mouth and landed in some overly-clever Scots git's lap, correctly translated, red-letter edition. So what's with wasting everyone's time? Yes, she knew, I was there, I told her, and I am NOT at all quiet. Ever."

"You're an angel," the poet finally managed to stammer out.

Gabriel stared right back. "The wings gave me away, didn't they?" he asked, as if unmasked. "I would've got away with it, too, if it weren't for those meddlesome kids."

"How are... what... dream?"

"No," Gabriel explained, very slowly and very precisely. "Archangel." He sighed. "Listen," he ordered, and conjured a copy of the frequently cited book, flipping it open without actually needing to look at it. With all the things in the Holy books of the world that had been parsed and translated and edited nigh unto self-contradiction, it was a mystery somewhere between Jack the Ripper (royalty) and Nazca lines (trickster didn't fall far from the pranks by Dad tree) how they'd managed to get this story in there with so much of it intact.

"And the angel said unto her, 'Fear not, Mary; for thou hast found favor with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: And he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.'"

Gabriel flicked his fingers and the Bible disappeared then. The poet stared at the place it had been in bald horror, as if Gabriel had summoned up a rubenesque demon in a leather thong. Which, now that he thought about it, would be something fun to do to the next rubenesque demon he met, but never mind.

"There you go, bud, answer to all your questions in two sentences." He turned on the disappointed adult face because there was no such thing as too much fun. "What do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded sternly, hands on his hips, crimson and gold flooding the air.

The poet whimpered, and his hands flickered, and he tried to look away but Gabriel was just too big at the moment. His eyes fluttered across the floor. He set his jaw and breathed deep and then glowered at Gabriel as best he could. "I..."

Gabriel rolled his halo down his arm and polished it idly on the hem of the stark white tunic he wore, and this time the guy's eyes just completely bugged. Gabriel tilted an eyebrow. The guy swallowed. Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

"I'm sorry!!" the dude shrieked, curling in on himself in the chair and flinging his hands up around his head.

"You got that right," Gabriel agreed, and then he grinned, wide and bright and wicked. "Now, apologize," he ordered.

The guy fainted. Gabriel chuckled and snapped his fingers. A lollipop, sparkly and colorful and looking delicious appeared as his wings and robes vanished. He'd opted for a costume that suited the sucker, this time. In school boys' shorts and a bright dress shirt, he straightened his boater hat with his only free hand. Snickering harder, this time, he replaced the boater with a propeller beanie, flicked the blade to let it spin, and started humming.

As the man in the chair began, slowly, to stir, Gabriel practically skipped away, voice raised in happy, holiday-friendly song: "'I'm gettin' nothin' for Christmas,'" he chirped gleefully, "'cuz I ain't been nothin' but bad!'"

**Author's Note:**

> He just kept nagging me...


End file.
